


back to the starting line

by mayangel7



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, mentioned past markhyuck, mentioned past nomin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19409284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayangel7/pseuds/mayangel7
Summary: Mark blinks, caught off guard. “Why would I go to your class reunion?”Jaemin leans a little closer, his voice dropping like he’s about to reveal a secret. His eyes glint with danger, and Mark can’t stop himself from leaning forward as well. “You should come as my date.”Mark chokes on thin air, coughing violently into his fist. “Sorry, what?”“Come on,” Jaemin says, his voice dropping lower, and there it is—the infamous charm that had earned Jaemin the title of their town’s sweetheartandheartbreaker. “I know you had a thing for me in high school.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in a fictional town, so any similar names are coincidental.

Mark feels a tap on his shoulder as he finishes the third mile of his morning jog to the beat of Walk the Moon. He glances to his left, pulling out an earbud, and nearly trips over nothing when he sees Jaemin.

“Mark! I thought it was you.” Jaemin grins, falling in step with Mark as they make a sharp turn. Baby Lake, the smallest of the four lakes, is also the most dangerous because there are so many blind spots that are detrimental to careless drivers and joggers. “You’ve been here for a while?” 

Mark struggles to control his breathing, its irregularity more a consequence of Jaemin’s appearance than the intensity of his workout. Jaemin is still as straightforward and ambiguous as ever, and Mark really wants to ask him so many questions. But he has a workout to finish, and then he has to shower and get to work. Mark glances down at his watch, which happily notifies him of his too-fast heartbeat. “I’m on my fourth mile.” 

“Cool,” Jaemin says, and leaves it at that.

They go around Baby Lake together, not stopping until they reach the crossroads to turn towards Super Lake. Jogging with a partner always helps, and Mark notes with satisfaction that he’d beat his own five-mile record. He slows down, turning off the road towards the edge of Baby Lake, and Jaemin follows him.

For a moment, neither of them speaks as they catch their breaths and drink water. Jaemin wipes the sweat from his face with the edge of his shirt, and Mark can’t stop himself from staring. Their eyes meet when Jaemin looks up, and Mark quickly turns to stare at the edge of the lake. 

“You still run a 400 in 48 seconds?” Jaemin asks.

“My fastest time was 46.” Mark shakes his head. “I just jog these days, though. Don’t think my bones could handle the speed.” 

“Laketon’s pride,” Jaemin says, and Mark laughs at the ill-fitting but well-meaning title. 

“I didn’t know you were back.” Jaemin changes the topic abruptly, sitting down in the grass. He pulls on a loose shoe string, retying the knot. 

“Yeah, well.” Mark watches a dragonfly drift over the surface of the lake, then looks down at the top of Jaemin’s head. His hair is back to black now, no longer the soft brown or dark blond hues that it had seen in their high school days. “I moved back last month.” 

“A whole month and I didn’t even know?” Jaemin’s pitch rises in mock outrage, and Mark laughs as he sits down next to him. “Does anyone else know? I saw Donghyuck just the other day, and—”

“No, no one else knows,” Mark cuts him off quickly. His chest tightens, and he wishes that he hadn’t stopped running. High school was so long ago, but it’s hard to remember that when you’re back in town. “I’ve been busy moving back and getting settled, so I haven’t had time to catch up.” 

Jaemin raises his eyebrows. “Okay then, Mr. Mark Lee. What are you doing now? We thought you’d never come back.” 

Mark smiles, trying to hide how that small dig hurts for all the wrong reasons. “I’m working full time at the Zhongs’ research center.” 

“No shit?” Jaemin whistles lowly. “I haven’t even heard from Chenle in ages, pretty sure he’s still out of the country.” 

Mark shrugs, then leans forward to bump his knee against Jaemin’s. “What about you? What have you been doing recently?” 

“I’m a pediatrician at the hospital.” Mark’s jaw drops in surprise, and Jaemin laughs—at him, Mark realizes, flushing as he closes his mouth again. “Yeah, I finished residency at Austin a few years ago, so then I decided to come back. Hey, do your parents still live here?” 

Mark shakes his head. “They left after I went to college. My dad’s in the city, my mom’s up north. I live in one of the condos down that way.” 

“You mean the new complex in front of Mama Lake?” Jaemin grins, holding out a hand. “Lake front property, man. Congrats, you made it.” 

Mark laughs, high-fiving Jaemin. “It’s not one of the houses, but the view’s pretty nice. And it’s close to my work. What about you?” 

“Moved back with my parents last year after Jeno and I broke up. I’m still looking around for a place, but it’s been nice being back home again.” Jaemin pauses, noticing that Mark’s still processing his words. “What’s wrong, Mark?” 

“Nothing, I—” Mark swallows, trying to find a sensitive way to convey his surprise, but words have always failed him when he needed them the most. It’s probably a good thing that he does most of his heavy brainwork in front of a computer. “I just—I didn’t think—you just—I—”

Jaemin takes mercy on Mark, brushing it off with a shrug. “People change. This is the third time that we’ve broken up, and I think it’s going to stay like that. We’re still young.”

Mark blinks, taking in Jaemin’s words. Hearing him lay the truth out so plainly, Mark isn’t even sure why he’s so surprised. It’s unfair to think that while he was away and growing up, the rest of Laketon had remained frozen in time. Yet Mark thinks that he was expecting everything to remain the same, even if there are so many new residences and businesses all over Laketon, some still in the middle of being constructed. 

It’s just—Jaemin and Jeno had been a thing for so long. Even before they began dating, they were Jaemin-and-Jeno, never one without the other. Mark had assumed that they would stay together, maybe even get married at some point down the road, because that’s what you would expect from childhood friends who end up falling in love with each other. 

Jaemin rests his chin on his knees, turning his head to stare at Mark thoughtfully. “Are you going to the high school reunion this weekend?” 

Mark blinks, caught off guard. “Why would I go to your class reunion?” 

“Well, you missed all of _your_ class reunions. It’s the fifteenth year reunion, don’t you want to see everyone? Only like half of the people there are going to be from my class, anyway. I heard even Jisung Park is going. You should stop ghosting us, Mark. We miss you,” Jaemin says, and Mark’s throat tightens at his words.

Then Jaemin leans a little closer, his voice dropping like he’s about to reveal a secret. His eyes glint with danger, and Mark can’t stop himself from leaning forward as well. “You should come as my date.” 

Mark chokes on thin air, coughing violently into his fist. “Sorry, what?”

“Come on,” Jaemin says, his voice dropping lower, and there it is—the infamous charm that had earned Jaemin the title of their town’s sweetheart _and_ heartbreaker. “I know you had a thing for me in high school.” 

Mark hides his face in his hands, though he knows that his ears are probably bright red as well. “Oh my god.” Fifteen year old Mark would have died from mortification, but thirty-five year old Mark is stronger. Somewhat. 

Jaemin laughs, tipping backwards onto the grass. He closes his eyes, and the rising sun illuminates his face with an ethereal glow. “I’m serious, though. We should go and pretend we’re dating. Can you just imagine how everyone would react?” 

It does sound like a pretty good prank, Mark will give him that, but he looks carefully at Jaemin. “You’re just doing this for fun? You’re not using me to—” 

“God, no.” Jaemin meets Mark’s eyes, and Mark relaxes at the earnestness that he sees in them. If there’s one thing Jaemin can’t do, it’s lie with a straight face. “Jeno and I aren’t dating anymore, but we’re still best friends. There’s no bad blood between us,” he says solemnly, placing a hand over his heart.

Mark swallows, glancing down at his watch. He startles when he realizes the time; he’d been so wrapped up in talking to Jaemin. “Shit, I have to head back now, or I’ll be late to work.” 

Jaemin gets up with him and hands Mark his phone. “Here, put in your number. Let me know if you want to go to the reunion or just hang out.” 

Mark enters his number and saves himself as a contact, then calls himself so that he has Jaemin’s number as well. “Here.” Their fingers brush as Jaemin takes his phone back.

“Cool, thanks. I’m going to do Super Lake, so I’ll see you around, Mark.” 

“See you!” Mark calls, though Jaemin has already put in his earbuds and started jogging towards the main roads. 

Jaemin waves without turning back. Mark watches him go, giving himself a moment to take in everything, before turning down the other road.

Mark ends up pulling into Jaemin’s driveway Sunday evening. It’s been over a decade since he’d last come to the neighborhood where he had spent his first eighteen years. These were the roads on which he had first learned to drive, and his old house is just the next block over. It’s all a little disconcerting, Mark thinks, getting out of the car to ring Jaemin’s doorbell. 

He hears voices inside the house, and then Jaemin’s mom answers the door. “Mark, you’re here!” 

“Hello, Mrs. Na.” Mark bends slightly to return her hug. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long.” Mrs. Na steps back and opens the door wider. “Come on in. How long have you been back?”

“Just a month.” Mark takes off his shoes before following her into the house. “I meant to come by earlier, but I’m still getting settled.” 

“Are your parents back too?” 

“No, but they might come down to visit me.” Mark clears his throat, glancing around the house. A lot of the furniture has changed, and the TV on which they used to play video games has been replaced by an OLED screen that covers almost a whole wall of the living room. “Is Jaemin here?” 

“He’s still getting ready in his bedroom. Do you want anything to drink? I’ve started making dinner, but Jaemin told me ya’ll are already going to a restaurant.” 

“No, thank you,” Mark says, trailing behind Mrs. Na as she walks briskly into the kitchen. “And maybe some other day. I miss having home cooked food.” 

She laughs, turning to check the pot on the stove. “You must be really busy. It’s so hard even getting Jaemin and his father to eat dinner at home. Do you cook for yourself?” 

Mark smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I try.” Sometimes without much success, but at least he hasn’t gotten food poisoning from his own cooking. 

“I’m here, Mom.” Jaemin steps out of his bedroom and waves at Mark. “Mark, come over here, I need help.” 

_No, I need help,_ is the most intelligible thought that Mark’s brain can come up with when he sees Jaemin. He knows that Jaemin is objectively very handsome, but Mark needs a second to process _this_ Jaemin, who effortlessly fills out his white button-down, the top few buttons undone, his hair artfully tousled. 

Mark leaves Mrs. Na with promises to greet his parents for her and to come over for dinner sometime. He finds Jaemin in his bedroom, sitting on the ground and pulling on his socks. “What do you need help with? Are you ready?” 

“Almost.” Jaemin waves him over. “Don’t stand in the doorway like that, just sit down on the bed.” 

As he waits for Jaemin to fix his hair in the mirror, Mark glances at the pictures on Jaemin’s bedside table and along the walls. Before, Jaemin’s bedroom had been covered by various posters, books, and papers, with holiday lights strung across the walls. Now, other than the slight messiness and the many pictures, the room looks barely inhabited. 

A few of the pictures are from high school; Mark can tell by their haircuts and the poor image resolution. He can find himself in some of them, as well as other people within their friend group, like Renjun and Chenle. Most of the pictures, though, are of Jeno—Jeno biting into a giant cookie, Jeno petting a puppy, Jaemin and Jeno posing before a wall with the words _You’re my butter half_ painted in black. 

Mark tears his eyes away, feeling like he was caught looking at something he shouldn’t be looking at. A picture near the bottom of the wall catches his eye: Donghyuck, sitting on a railing with Papa Lake shimmering in the background, closing his eyes as he tilts his head towards the sun. It’s a picture that Mark’s all but memorized, with how much he’s stared at his own copy in the past. His senior year photo album even falls open automatically to this picture. It’s been a while since he’s had the urge to dig it out, but he still feels the familiar longing from looking at this picture. It’s effortlessly beautiful in its simplicity, just one irreproducible moment captured forever. 

“What are you looking at?” Jaemin asks, his voice right next to Mark’s ear.

Mark leans closer to the photos to hide his surprise. He hadn’t even noticed Jaemin approaching at all. “You have so many pictures.” 

“It took me a whole day to print all these and put them up.” Jaemin points to one of the framed photos. It’s slightly grainy, taken back when they were in high school. “How did you ever convince your parents to let you dye your hair into fried macaroni?” 

Mark chokes on a laugh and elbows Jaemin. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” 

Jaemin flashes him a bright smile, jumping off the bed. “Whatever you say. Let’s go, or we’ll be late.” 

Mark glances down at his watch. We’re already late,” he says, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to hear him. 

It’s not until they’re already in Mark’s car that Jaemin turns to him. “Oh, by the way, I booked a room in the hotel.”

Mark shoots Jaemin a started look as he continues to back his car out the driveway. “Why did you book a room?” 

Jaemin clicks his tongue and shakes his head, like Mark is being the illogical one. “Don’t you read anything I send you? We’re having dinner and drinks at the hotel. It’s not safe to drive after you drink, so I booked us a room.” 

“You booked _both_ of us rooms?” Mark asks, coming to a full stop at the stop sign. 

Jaemin reaches up to pinch Mark’s cheek. “A room. Singular.” He leans back into his chair, sighing dramatically. “You’re not good at being a fake boyfriend, are you?” 

“It was your idea,” Mark argues, only slightly miffed. He’s taken friends as dates to many dances when he was a teen, and he’s certainly a respectable plus one at social events. 

“Relax. Everyone knows about Jeno and me breaking up, and they’ll probably be more concerned about you actually being alive than us dating. But if anyone does ask, you asked me out a few months ago when you finally decided to do something about your high school crush.” 

“Stop bringing that up.” Mark turns down the temperature in the car, which is starting to feel a bit too warm.

“Why not? It was cute.” Jaemin grins widely at Mark, then leans forward to fiddle with the car radio. “I can’t believe you listen to the local news while you drive.” 

Mark frowns when Jaemin stops at a station that’s currently playing bubble gum pop music, but he doesn’t change it back. “It helps me know which roads to avoid if there’s a car accident or just construction,” he says, but Jaemin is already singing along to the song and ignoring him.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the hotel. Mark parks into the back parking lot, where the dining area of the hotel is located. He unbuckles his seatbelt slowly, already feeling inexplicably nervous.

Jaemin seems to notice, since he turns to Mark with a slight frown. “You good?” 

Mark pulls down the sun visor and checks his reflection in the small mirror. “Yeah.” He pauses, then admits, “I’m just—worried about seeing everyone at once.” 

“They’ll be happy to see you.” Jaemin adjusts Mark’s collar, then leaves his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “You can hold my hand, and if anyone antagonizes you, remember to duck and bark.” 

Mark laughs, pushing Jaemin away. “Get out.” 

There aren’t many cars in the back parking lot, but Mark guesses that they must be one of the last ones to arrive, seeing how it’s already half past the agreed meet-up time. Still, he spends a few seconds smoothing out the ends of his shirt before walking over to Jaemin. He slips his hand into Jaemin’s, interlocking their fingers, and they walk towards the hotel together.


	2. Chapter 2

The reunion goes better than Mark had expected.

By the time he and Jaemin walk in, everyone else is already seated. They slip into two empty seats at the second table, one of which happens to be next to Lucas. Lucas greets Mark warmly, introduces Mark to his lover on the other side of him, and it’s easy going from there.

Mark recognizes most of the people at the table, though a few, like Lucas and Qianxi, have significant others who didn’t grow up in Laketon. It’s easy to fall back into the “everyone knows everyone” familiarity of Laketon, even if it’s something that Mark had tried his best to run away from in the past. The conversation is lively and the food is delicious, though Jaemin keeps trying to feed Mark pieces of his steak. 

“What are you doing?” Mark asks, trying to avoid him the first time Jaemin jabs a forkful of meat towards his mouth.

“Say ah,” Jaemin says. His tone is sweet, like he’s talking to one of his patients, but there’s a warning in his stare that makes Mark concede and let Jaemin feed him.

Once the main course is done, the drinking starts. There’s wine at every table, and although Mark only takes a small sip every time someone makes a toast, it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to start thrumming through his veins. 

“Come on, I want to make a toast too,” Jaemin says, tugging on Mark’s arm impatiently as he’s refilling their wineglasses. He slips an arm through Mark’s, leading him towards the other side of the room. “I haven’t even gotten to talk to Jisung yet.”

Jisung is sitting with Donghyuck and Renjun at the table by the wall. It takes Mark and Jaemin a while to reach them, stopping along the way to greet old classmates. Jaemin gets restless after Mark gets pulled into a particularly long conversation with Jihoon. He shifts closer, slipping an arm around Mark’s waist, and bends to speak directly into Mark’s ear. 

“Stop taking so long,” Jaemin murmurs. Mark flinches away to shoot him an incredulous stare; Jaemin had been the one stopping in the middle of the room to catch up with Eunbin. There’s a pout dancing on Jaemin’s lips, and Mark can’t tell if Jaemin is tipsy or just pretending to be. “And quit acting like I’m not here. You have to introduce me as your boyfriend.” 

“But no one asked,” Mark protests, to no avail. Jaemin’s attention has already shifted as he steps away from Mark and heads towards Jisung. There’s a bright smile on Jaemin’s face, his excitement evident. Mark realizes belatedly that this leaves him alone with Renjun and Donghyuck, and he can’t help missing Jaemin’s presence.

“Sit down,” Renjun says when Mark hovers awkwardly, and points at the empty chair on his other side. 

Donghyuck leans past Renjun to say, “Hey, Mark Lee,” and Mark offers a weak, “Hey,” in response. 

There’s a tense pause as Renjun slowly pours a bit more wine into Mark’s glass, replenishing the amount that had been drained on the walk over. “Jaemin told us that you’re back for good,” Renjun says conversationally, setting the bottle of wine down. 

Mark quickly surmises that “us” doesn’t just refer to Donghyuck and Renjun. Which makes sense, of course. Jaemin hadn’t fallen out of touch the way that Mark had, even if he’s the one acting like he hasn’t seen Jisung in fifteen years. Mark swirls the wine in his glass, eyes fixed on the deep red liquid as he answers. “For the foreseeable future, yes. I’m just taking things one step at a time.” 

“I heard you’re working at the Zhongs’?” Donghyuck says, and Mark nods. More people had figured that out than he’d expected, so he guesses that it wasn’t just Jaemin’s doing. Even Linong’s older sister works on the same floor as he does, and there’s probably a half dozen other connections. It was inevitable that work would get out, somehow. 

“What about you?” 

“I’m in real estate. I’d help you find a place, but I heard you’ve already got that covered.” Mark smiles at the sarcasm in Donghyuck’s voice, the note of familiarity helping him relax. “And Renjun is the VP over at Laketon Middle.” 

“Wow,” Mark says, and Renjun laughs as he adds, “I got duct taped to a wall two months ago for a fundraiser.” 

Donghyuck grins, pulling out his phone. “I still have your picture on here.” He passes the device to Mark, who watches as the moving stills show a progression of Renjun being duct taped by a whole group of middle schoolers. 

Renjun watches over Mark’s shoulder. “I think Kun took most of these pictures. His son’s already going into seventh grade this fall. And Taeyong’s daughter will be enrolling.” The open fondness in Renjun’s eyes and smile would have been jarring with the sharp intensity of the Renjun whom Mark had once known, but now it sits comfortably on his features. Mark hands back Donghyuck’s phone, suddenly wanting nothing more than to meet Kun and Taeyong’s children. 

“Mark!” a voice calls, starting Mark out of his thoughts. He turns to see Jeno, with Chenle right behind him. Jeno grins as he pulls Mark into a half hug. “We finally found you.” 

“Hey, Jeno, Chenle.” Mark hugs Jeno with one arm, patting his back. 

“Mark Lee!” Chenle gives Mark a brief hug as well and ruffles his hair as he draws back. He laughs loudly when Mark tries to flinch away. “You haven’t changed at all.” 

Jeno sits down in the seat next to him, Chenle on his other side, and that’s the extent of their greetings because Jaemin is standing and holding his glass dramatically.

“I’d like to give a toast,” Jaemin says, and he launches into a long, repetitive speech about youth and friendship and memories and reconnections and getting old. After Jaemin repeats, “And I love you guys,” for the second time, Renjun starts cheering, and the rest of the table quickly join in. Jaemin laughs and finishes his toasts, their glasses clinking together. 

“Little Sung’s turn!” Donghyuck says immediately afterwards, and it doesn’t stop until all of them have at least given one toast. 

The alcohol helps. All the worries weighing in the back of Mark’s mind gradually fade away, leaving only a warm bubble that expands as he joins in the conversation.

Renjun brings up an old story—the first time Jisung drinks alcohol, in the basement of Jungwoo’s place—and then they’re all chiming in. The happy, funny, embarrassing memories that they’d made years ago, when they were drinking cheap beer that they couldn’t even purchase yet, are relived now with glasses of fine wine. 

The room shifts around them as people continue to move around and mingle, but the seven of them remain at the table. Mark takes a moment to reflect on that as Chenle tells them about his recent trip to Germany—how even though they’re in completely different places now, even though they had started at opposite ends of the room—they’ve still ended up together, like this.

Mark makes eye contact with Jaemin across the table, suddenly feeling emotional. Jaemin raises his eyebrows and grins, and Mark realizes too late the danger in that grin. “Do you guys remember when Mark had a crush on me freshman year?” 

Mark buries his face in his hands, but it’s no use. Chenle quickly chimes in with, “He couldn’t even look you in the eye. Didn’t Ms. Oh make you guys partners for precalc and she kept asking Mark why he was so red?” 

And Mark does remember: the simultaneous dread and excitement building in his stomach at the prospect of talking to Jaemin, the fumble in his voice as he’d explained and re-explained concepts to Jaemin, who listened with all his attention on Mark. “You weren’t even in high school yet,” Mark protests, but it’s a weak counterattack.

“And now you guys are dating,” Renjun says. He’s staring at Mark thoughtfully, as though looking for something. In his slightly inebriated state, Mark can’t piece it together fast enough.

“To Mark Lee,” Jaemin says, leaning forward to make the toast.

Mark finishes the remaining wine in his glass, thankful for the distraction. The conversation breaks off into an unrelated tangent from there.

It’s around one in the morning before things really start to die down. More people are leaving, either to rest or to continue talking elsewhere, and the music in the background turns off.

Renjun starts handing out the keycards. “All the rooms are under my name, so don’t get yourselves locked out or you’re sleeping in the hallway. Checkout time is tomorrow at noon. Oh, Mark, your card is with Jaemin.” 

The room spins when Mark stands up, and he quickly grabs onto the edge of the table. He’d stopped drinking after midnight, but he hadn’t kept track of his total intake. Jaemin’s there in an instant, a hand around Mark’s arm.

“Come on, let’s get you back,” Jaemin says, guiding Mark out. They take the elevator down to the main lobby, then take an elevator to the wing where their room is located. It’s silent between them, the change in energy drastic compared to a few minutes before. Mark manages to doze off standing up on the ride up to the ninth floor. 

“It’s right here.” Jaemin guides Mark down the hallway, his movement more coordinated than Mark’s. Still, he tries and fails several times to unlock the door with the card. Mark giggles at the frustrated stare that Jaemin directs at the lock, and then they’re both giggling against the wall outside their room for no particular reason.

“You’re so silly,” Jaemin says once he’s caught his breath. He stares into Mark’s eyes so sweetly that, for a moment, Mark doesn’t think he could ever get up again. “Come on, you look ready to crash.” 

This time, Jaemin manages to slide the card in correctly. He holds the door open for Mark, tapping on the lights as Mark flops facedown onto the nearer of the two beds. 

“I’ll go shower first,” Jaemin says. Mark feels Jaemin push at his arm, but it also feels like Jaemin is miles away and Mark is already floating. “Mark, don’t fall asleep on me, or else…” The rest of Jaemin’s sentence is drowned out as Mark succumbs to the waves of blackness that pull him under. 

The room is too bright. Mark blinks, waiting for the black dots swimming in his vision to clear out, and sits up slowly. It takes a moment for the room to settle into focus, another moment for him to identify his surroundings. 

“You’re awake?” Jaemin says, looking up from his phone. He’s lying on the bed, surrounded by a mountain of pillows. Some of them seem to have come from Mark’s bed. 

“What time is it?” Mark winces at how scratchy his voice sounds and slowly untangles himself from his blankets. 

“Almost ten thirty. You have enough time to take a shower. I’m going to order room service,” Jaemin tells him, his tone cheerful yet leaving little room for discussion. 

Room service has already brought the food by the time Mark steps out of the shower. The trays of food are arranged on Jaemin’s bed, and Jaemin beckons Mark over.

“I hope you like scrambled eggs and bacon. Or you can have some of my waffles, if you want.” 

Mark sits down on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle the trays full of food and drinks. “This is good, thank you.” 

Jaemin shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee, as though to say, _Your loss._ There’s a generous heap of whipped cream and strawberries on his Belgian waffles, and as appealing as it looks, Mark doesn’t think he could handle so much sugar so early in the morning. 

“Oh, so dinner’s going to be at Renjun’s place today,” Jaemin says, leaning forward to swipe some of Mark’s hash browns. “Just the seven of us. So after we check out, we can stop by at my place and then yours, and then we can head on over.” 

Mark frowns, setting down his fork. “Do you have to tell me these things the day of?”

“What do you mean?” Jaemin looks up at Mark from under his eyelashes coyly. “I wasn’t aware that you had other plans today.” 

“That’s—that’s not…” Mark clears his throat and drinks some water. “You should still give me a heads up. Like, if you’d told me we would be staying over at the hotel earlier, I would’ve brought clothes to change into." 

“It’s okay, Mark.” Jaemin pats Mark’s hand, then leaves his hand on top of Mark’s. Mark stares down at their hands, at the way Jaemin’s fingers curve over his, not quite holding it but just _there_. When he looks up, Jaemin is watching him with a knowing smile on his lips. “I didn’t know we’d be booking a room either. You just have to go with the flow, you know?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Mark takes a bite of his toast. It’s perfectly crunchy and warm, though it would probably taste better if it were buttered. But he would need two hands to do that, which would mean displacing Jaemin’s hand in the process.

Jaemin pulls away first, stretching his arms over his head. Mark looks down and studies his breakfast carefully. “Last night was okay, right?” Jaemin says, eating some of Mark’s eggs though he hasn’t finished his own food.

It takes Mark a moment to realize that Jaemin is asking about the dinner. “I—yeah, it was nice.” 

Jaemin nods thoughtfully. “I’m…sorry that I didn’t tell you about the dinner at Renjun’s earlier. You were just gone for so long and we weren’t really sure—” Jaemin blinks, cutting himself off. “Anyway, Renjun texted me about it this morning.” 

Mark nods, trying to keep his face impassive. It stings; of course it does. They’d all practically grown up together, but Mark had been the one actively removing himself, after all. Last night had been great, being able to catch up and talk to everyone, but in many ways, it had been a big relief as well. For all Mark tried to pretend, there had been a part of him that was scared that he’d damaged something irreparable. 

He looks at Jaemin, seated just an arm’s length away from him with hair falling messily in his eyes. For a moment, Mark considers voicing the complicated mixture of emotions and thoughts swimming, drowning, in his head. But they’re too heavy for so early in the morning, and besides, he figures that Jaemin already understands, somewhat. 

“When are we going to tell them?” he asks instead, changing the subject. “That we’re not, you know…” Mark gestures between the two of them. 

“Why should we?” Jaemin returns, the look in his eyes hinting that he’s teasing Mark.

“Because that’s the punchline, you know?” The other five had barely mentioned Mark and Jaemin’s “relationship,” but Mark figures that they’d react more if they learned it was just an act. 

Jaemin laughs, leaning forward to pinch Mark’s cheek. “It’s so cute how you’re so earnest.” He swings off the bed, calling over his shoulder, “That’s a compliment, by the way.” The bathroom door closes behind him before Mark has time to formulate a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just write this fic just for Jaemin flirting with Mark? Yes, yes I did.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s almost eerily quiet inside the house. Mark had banned Jisung from the kitchen a few minutes ago when the younger kept trying to steal pieces of the watermelon that Mark was cutting. Chenle had dragged him out to set up the drinks.

Through the windows, Mark can see Jeno and Renjun grilling the meat, with Jaemin standing by them. They’re joking around, and Renjun throws his head back in laughter as Jeno turns away from the grill, his shoulders shaking in merriment. Jaemin is watching both of them with a wide, fond smile.

Mark sets down the knife after he finishes cutting the last piece of watermelon. He’s glad that the floor-to-ceiling windows around most of Renjun’s house are one-sided, providing an easy view out while hindering outside eyes. Mark had been to Renjun’s place countless times before. Although the landscaping hasn’t changed much, Renjun has had the entire house redone, with most of the exterior made of glass. Its seemingly fragile look is offset by the tall black gates that encircle the expansive property.

“What are you looking at?”

Donghyuck’s sudden voice makes Mark jump. He spins around, like a child caught doing something forbidden. “The—the windows,” Mark says, gesturing towards the ceiling.

Donghyuck’s eyes flicker deliberately towards the back windows, where there’s a clear view of Jaemin, Renjun, and Jeno. There’s a weighted silence, but Donghyuck chooses not to say anything. Instead, he reaches over and takes a piece of watermelon. Mark raises an eyebrow, ready to accuse the other of walking in just to bribe him of the watermelon, but Donghyuck beats him to it.

“If you’re done here, do you want to go out on the golf cart with me? We should take a look around the property.” 

“Sure, let me just cover this first.” Mark seals the two bowlfuls of watermelon that he’d cut, then rinses off the knife.

Donghyuck leads Mark out through a side door. “It rained pretty heavily a few days ago. I wanted to look around the property, make sure none of the bridges have flooded or anything. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, especially with hurricane season coming up.” 

“Renjun manages the whole place by himself?” Mark asks, looking around as they walk to the shed. He’d noticed the lack of animals when he’d gotten here: the horses, chickens, and even the sheep that the Huangs used to keep. Skittles, the dog that they used to have, is no longer running across the lawn either, but Mark had seen a toy poodle around. Even the garden that Mrs. Huang used to keep has been replaced by grass.

“Do you not check Facebook?” Donghyuck starts the golf cart as he speaks, taking some of the sting out of his question. “Renjun’s father passed away a few years ago, so yeah.” Donghyuck shrugs as he backs the golf cart out with practiced ease. Mark checks the side mirrors on his behalf. “I keep telling him he’d get a good deal on this place, but he just doesn’t want to give it up.” 

“It’s a pretty big place to own by yourself,” Mark agrees. He holds onto the side of the cart when Donghyuck makes a turn too quickly, especially considering that neither of them is buckled.

Donghyuck nods in agreement. “Lucas comes down sometimes, but he doesn’t even live in state. And it’s not like Renjun has much time, either.” Donghyuck slows down as the golf cart eases off the concrete onto the dirt road. “He’s working his way up to reform the education system. Which is something, considering that the admins at Laketon are all brooding over their graves.” 

Mark smiles, suddenly taken back to a particularly impassioned speech that Renjun had made senior year of high school. “He’s going to change the world. Remember his speech when he ran for class president?” 

“Light up your world, vote for Renjun.” Donghyuck completes the statement with hand gestures, and the cart wobbles dangerously as it passes a bumpy portion of the road. “No, but Hendery’s was even better. You can’t go _wrong_ with Hendery _Wong_.” 

Mark laughs as he remembers the video clip of Hendery’s speech, complete with his signature V sign. He slaps Donghyuck’s shoulder in his amusement, then pulls back quickly when he remembers that he probably shouldn’t. He realizes too late that the act of pulling back was worse than touching Donghyuck in the first place. Mark turns back to face the front and clears his throat. “That’s the first bridge.” 

“This one should be fine,” Donghyuck says, carefully steering the cart across the narrow wooden structure. “The stream is so shallow here, and the slopes are so steep. They probably just built this one to connect the road over the little valley.” He’s rambling, detailing the insignificant history of this small bridge, and it only highlights the change of mood around them.

“I can’t believe that swing is still there,” Mark says, pointing to the large tire swing ahead of them.

“It’s probably changed multiple times since you’ve last seen it.” Donghyuck turns off the road towards the swing. They coast over the grass, then get out of the cart to walk the rest of the way to the swing.

“Is it still safe?” Mark asks, testing the give of the rope.

Donghyuck nods, stepping back to watch him. “I tested it the other day.” 

Mark gets onto the swing carefully. He and Donghyuck used to get on this swing together often on hot summer days while the others were elsewhere on this large property, but Donghyuck doesn’t step forward and Mark doesn’t ask.

When the swing’s initial speed slows, Donghyuck steps forward to push it. “Why did you come back?”

Donghyuck’s question is uttered so softly while Mark is spinning above the ground that Mark is tempted to ignore it. But he knows that Donghyuck is giving him a way out—and, more importantly, that the question is a way in.

“I don’t know,” Mark admits. He swings back towards Donghyuck, who gives the tire another gentle push, and briefly considers what the back-and-forth motion must be doing to his voice from Donghyuck’s perspective. “I guess I couldn’t stay away. But I also wasn’t sure how long I wanted to stay, so I was just going to test things out.” Mark had gotten better offers that would have taken him far, far away from Laketon, but none of them had felt quite right. He takes a deep breath, watching the world rush by around him in blues, greens, and browns. “I don’t think I could leave the way I left, back then.” 

This time, when Mark swings back to Donghyuck, he stops the swing. “At least you know.” 

Mark jumps off the swing a bit too stiffly, and he feels the shock of the impact shoot up his knees. “I’m sorry about…” Everything, really. Mark struggles to find the eloquence to phrase his thoughts.

Donghyuck shrugs, turning to walk back to the golf cart. “I’m not mad about it anymore.” He gets back into the cart. Mark sits next to him, knowing that it’d be easier to have this conversation when they aren’t staring directly at each other. “I don’t think I ever was, really.” 

“Maybe you should have been.” It’s so quiet around them that Mark’s words feel disruptive, somehow.

“Jaemin makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

Mark startles at the question, turning to stare at Donghyuck, only to find the other already staring at him thoughtfully. His mind goes blank, but Donghyuck turns away without waiting for an answer.

"Maybe we should all forget about the past," he says, starting the cart’s engine.

They finish their round through the Huangs’ property, sticking mainly to safe topics—the view around them, Donghyuck’s plans to go to the beach, the weather. When they turn back to the house, the smell of freshly grilled meat is prominent in the air. Mark breathes in deeply, almost tasting the meat on his tongue.

Donghyuck parks the cart haphazardly by the house, then jumps out after turning off the engine. “You guys better have saved us some!” he shouts.

Mark follows him to the back of the house, where there are chairs set up around the open fireplace in the courtyard. Chenle is setting up plates of food, and Jisung is standing next to him, eating pieces of barbequed ribs off the plate. Donghyuck walks over to get Jisung to give him a bite. 

“Is there anything else to do?” Mark asks, rearranging some of the plates so that Chenle can set down the one in his hands. There’s an impressive amount of food, even some takeout from a nearby restaurant. 

Chenle steps back and looks at the table piled high with food. “I think this should be good. We can order more takeout or keep grilling if we need more. Let’s start eating now. Hey, Jisung Park!” he screams, the sudden change of volume a blast into Mark’s ears. “Get a plate and sit down.” 

Jaemin, Jeno, and Renjun join them shortly afterwards, gathering around the food table. Jaemin comes up behind Mark, peering over his shoulder.

“Are you getting food for me too?” Jaemin asks into Mark’s ear.

Despite only getting a little from each dish, Mark has already filled most of his plate. He nudges Jaemin slightly to the side. “Go get your own food.” 

Jaemin sticks close to Mark after they’ve filled their plates, as if to compensate for their separation the whole afternoon. There’s only one bench among many chairs around the fire, and Jaemin pulls Mark next to him onto the bench. No one even seems to notice, and when Mark looks over, Jaemin is eating off Chenle’s plate.

Jaemin catches him looking and holds out a peeled shrimp. “Do you want a bite?” Mark shakes his head, since he has several on his plate, but Jaemin feeds him anyway, cooing at him as Mark eats all of it.

Renjun shoots them a look as he sits down. “What are ya’ll doing?”

“Being gross,” Donghyuck says, pulling his chair closer to the small fire. 

“I saw two lovebugs the other day,” Chenle pipes up. He goes on in detail about the insects he’d seen, retelling the scene in full color HD with special effects.

“The fire is going out,” Jaemin points out when there’s a lull in the conversation.

Although the sun has already set, it’s warm enough that the fire isn’t necessary at all. The smoke keeps the mosquitoes away, at least. But it’s definitely too warm when Jaemin presses closer to Mark so that their arms and thighs are touching.

And yet neither of them moves away. The sun slips away from the sky, which darkens from soft pink to deep purple, and Mark allows himself to be carried away as well. Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung are in a heated discussion, the thread too far gone to follow.

It’s funny, how some things don’t really change. If Mark tries hard enough, he could pretend he’s gone back in time two decades, like they were still boys enjoying the last days of summer. Like half of them won’t be out of town by tomorrow morning, like all of them don’t have their separate lives, their separate worlds.

“Do you want to go swimming?” Jaemin murmurs. Mark blinks, dragging himself out of his thoughts. Jaemin is already standing, setting his empty plate on the bench. “Let’s go swimming!” he says, addressing the whole group now. “There’s too much smoke here and it’s so hot.” 

“Go ahead,” Renjun says. He’s lying sideways in his chair, his body language communicating how he’s content where he is. “The lake should be clean.” 

In the end, only four of them go. Jeno and Chenle race ahead of them to the lake, and Jaemin falls in step beside Mark as they walk through the woody patch behind the house.

“Are you tired?” Jaemin asks quietly, and the seriousness in his voice catches Mark by surprise. “You’ve been so quiet.” 

Mark blinks, staring at the ground ahead of them. He used to be able to run through this path in the dark, but he doesn’t think he could do that now. “I’m good. Just been thinking.” 

Saying that is like an invitation to getting teased, Mark remembers belatedly, but Jaemin just looks at him thoughtfully. “Thinking?” 

The lake is already in view. Mark watches Chenle and Jeno jump in, their screams of laughter audible from where he and Jaemin are. “Yeah,” he says, suddenly afraid to speak too loudly.

Mark can feel Jaemin’s gaze on him, heavy, but Jaemin doesn’t push him to continue. “Race you to the lake,” Jaemin says, and then he’s off, running through the strip of grass that leads to the lake.

Mark chases after him, the split second costing him several precious meters, especially considering that they’re less than two hundred meters away from the lake. It really doesn’t matter and Jaemin had played dirty to begin with, but somehow, the desire to _win_ had never really left Mark. 

With the fresh night air filling his lungs, roaring past his ears, Mark chases after Jaemin. He accelerates, pushing himself to go faster, faster than he’s run in all the years since he’s stopped competing. He can feel the moment when it’s _enough_ , and the thrill in his veins blends with the taste of victory on his tongue. In that moment, Mark is weightless, the world rushing past him in a blur, and he passes Jaemin up a dozen meters away from the lake. 

Mark slows down as he gets closer to the water, the deceleration somehow harder than the acceleration, and then Jaemin is half hugging him from behind. Mark tries to protest, tries to slow down, tries to shake Jaemin off, but it’s too late. Their combined momentum pushes them the rest of the way towards the lake, and they both fall in with a loud splash. 

Mark’s mouth is open when he falls in, and he accidentally gulps a mouthful of water before he can stop himself. He breaks to the surface, Jaemin’s arms no longer around him, and coughs out the water. There’s a moment of panic before Mark’s feet come in contact with the bottom of the lake. He’d almost forgotten how shallow it is close to the shore, and when he stands, the water barely reaches the middle of his chest. 

Jaemin bursts to the surface an arm’s length away, also sputtering and wiping water from his face. “Looks like you won,” he says, and his smile is almost blinding under the moonlight. It steals Mark’s breath in a way that even the mad sprint and plunge into the lake hadn’t. 

“Hey, at least play fair next time,” Mark says, though his protest is weak. 

Jaemin laughs, pushing his hair back from his face. The drops of water that fall from his hair and fingertips are almost silver. 

Mark is torn from his Jaemin-induced stupor when he feels something close around his ankle. He jumps, too surprised to even make a sound, and only relaxes when Chenle burst from the water with loud laughter.

“Are you guys going to swim or what?” Chenle says, drifting on his back and just barely dodging the splash of water that Mark sends in his direction. He kicks into the water to get back and Mark while propelling himself away. Most of the splashing ends up hitting Jaemin instead. 

Other than that water fight that threatens to occur, the four of them swim in the lake quite peacefully, mainly sticking to the shallows bordering Renjun’s property. It’s only when Jisung gets to the lake and threatens to make s’mores without the four of them that they make any move to get out of the water. 

Jaemin holds his hand out close to the shore. “Help me up,” he tells Jisung. 

Jisung reaches out, then seems to think better of it and steps back before their hands make contact. Jaemin makes a sound of protest, evidently displeased about his failure to drag Jisung into the lake. He latches onto Jisung the moment he’s on land, getting the younger boy wet anyway. 

The five of them walk back to the house, where Donghyuck and Renjun have already set up the marshmallows, graham crackers, and Hershey bars. There are a few marshmallows already toasted, and Renjun hands Mark one that’s still on the stick as he sits in front of the fire. 

Mark takes it gratefully and bites into the marshmallow, savoring the warm, golden outside and the melted sweetness inside. He watches the other boys argue about how to make s’mores in the orange glow of the fire, familiarity and content in each of their actions. Amid all the chaos, Mark realizes that he’s never lost the home he once had among these six close friends, and he’s finally found it again.


End file.
